Day I in "The Dally" 29th May 2006
HOT and Dusty!

One thing about "Dally" - everyone talks funny
I mean funny in an endearing sort of way(that's the only way I ever mean funny, to all those who still pissed with me for laughing when I shouldn't have). This north Indian lilt that harayanavis and punjus have once they are as cosmopolitanised(is that even a word?) as they ever can be, is very appealing to the ear(mine). I love hearing ppl go 'haw' or say 'hainji?'.
Sorry, I am no expert in sociolinguistics, so my limited vocabulary perempts any scope for a description better than the simple, sad 'lilt'.

PS: DO NOT WATCH FANAA... its a regular silly melodrama(next time i use this word - kill me)

Day II in "The Dally" 30th May 2006
Still HOT, still dusty... slight cloud cover in the evening...

Finally saw the 'foliage' I had been told about so much, yes parts of delhi are green, and parts are beautiful, the buildings rock...

Had momos and fruit beer at dillii haat... its an open air arty farty joint where hep dilli crowd and firang tourists drip sweat into their gol gappas in summer.(dunno what people do in winter coz i like an idiot had to land up here in summer of all times :((


Also found a bar that gives you three free drinks on any two you order!!

.... more later

At the very heart of this city, so easily dismissed as central Mumbai, lies an old precinct. It bustles with energy that is typically Mumbai. Men and women making money, arguing bargaining, fighting, closing deals, making contacts… all in the course of business. But this place is different, business here is sex. The area is called Kamathipura and is supposed to be the country’s largest red light district.

As you walk into Kamathipura you are accosted by pimps who whisper “Chiniz, Nepali, South Indian… bolo saab kya chahiye?” They don’t really need to whisper, the truckload of cops stationed in Kamathipura 24x7 cast only a lazy benevolent eye on the goings on here, but old habits don’t die so easily.

There are many things in Kamathipura worth being written about but I really can’t grapple with deeper questions today so we stick mostly to food.

The reason for me to get acquainted with this intriguing place is food and… well booze. K’pura does very well when it comes to providing you with the basic necessities of life, sex and food. It is the only place this side of town where you can find daru way into the wee hours of the morning.

Far away from the hustle and bustle of the main chowk is a quaint little lane called Bachu Ki Wadi. Right where the lane starts is Bachu kabab center, if you are not too finicky about how your food is prepared and what was killed to make it, you will love this place. Trays laden with steaming seekh kababs are carried to the store from a kitchen somewhere in the bowels of K’pura. Thin scrawny men, heavy trays and the divine aroma of juicy well cooked meat. They have a very high turnover here at Bachu Kabab, sometimes the trays are emptied out even before they are properly set down on the counter. So well, sometimes you have wait till the next tray comes. What you can do while waiting is stroll down bachu wadi and take in the sights. Bachu wadi is a ‘mujra’ lane. There are two rows of single rooms that open onto the lane on either side. As you walk down the lane you will hear everything to the latest Keona Mitra item number to strains of “In ankhon ki masti ke…..” The rooms are ornately decorated(there is a wide range from mattresses on the floor to leather sofas), each mujra house has about five to six women and enough space to seat at the most a couple of customers. When the doors are open you may see a few drunk men enjoying personalised attention from six women, one or two of them dancing.

But then your olfactory alarms ring as you sense more kababs being carried to the store, you run almost tripping over a cat, slipping on a used condom, just to make sure you get your kababs this time;)
Trust me, the Kababs are worth it and so is the experience.

Had a very random scholarship interview yesterday… was kinda dazed at the end of it all. Trudged down the stairs from the office, got out onto the street and was absentmindedly puffing away on my lil cancer stick, pondering life (as people tend to do when they are slowly killing themselves). This was near Flora Fountain in the afternoon, traffic and life in general seemed to be passing by in a blur. The crazy midday sun did nothing to help matters.

Decided to skip in under the arcades where at least the sun wouldn’t beat down… out of the blue something caught my eye. Did a double take and shook my head a bit… the heat had gotten to me, and fried my brains crisp. Once I realised what I was looking at I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I slowly walked to the street vendor whose merchandise on display had provoked my heat struck reactions. I asked him what the white plastic contraptions were. There were rows and rows of them. White, gleaming, plastic…. Phallic. He gave me a nonchalant look and mumbled “ladiz log ke liye.. private”… I went.. “kya?” He yelled “Abbe dildo hai DILDO - made in china"
I laughed some more and went home. In the land of Praveen Togadia and Sushma Swaraj and in the city of Pramod Navalkar… you could buy dildos on the street!